The Real Redeemers
by AJ Van Writ-101
Summary: [Part of The Real Sovereigns series] Although King Edmund, the Redeemed King, was known for his merciful interactions with the Redeemed Fell, he was certainly not the only royal to do so. Caspian is about to get a history lesson like he never had before. {No pairings}
1. Chapter 1: The Just

**Disclaimer:** In the Name of the Lion, and with Aslan as my judge, I, AJ, do hereby swear that all properties recognized as from the Chronicles of Narnia do not belong to me, rather are to be attributed to C. S. Lewis.

**Note:** This story is part of The Real Sovereigns Series, and is better understood if the first part "The Real Sovereigns" is read first. The updates may not be timely because I am focused on keeping to my set schedule for a different story (Raising a Nin-Wizard).

* * *

Caspian stared at Edmund, floundering to put words to his whirling thoughts. There were so many questions, so many mysteries…

"Why did you call yourself the 'Redeemed King'?" he finally asked. "I learned that you were the 'Redeemer King' known for your incredible mercy and justice when dealing with the Fell creatures."

Edmund gave a wry chuckle. "Well, you aren't wrong that I primarily dealt with the Fell and Redeemed Narnians**1** myself, but it was because I had also been Redeemed."

Caspian's brow furrowed as he thought. "Because you were rescued from the Witch?" he asked. It was the only time he could think of that would make sense. All the stories about the Just King applauded him for his justice, mercy, knowledge of the law, and his upright character. A man without flaws who acted as the perfect judge for Narnia.

"Because I was _bought back_ from her," Edmund corrected gently. "Before I was a king, I was a traitor who sold my family and Aslan to their worst enemy. I was in the thrall of the White Witch, and Aslan, in His infinite mercy, chose to offer His own life in exchange for mine, paying the penalty of death in my stead."

"B-but you are, I mean, I thought... the Just?"

"That is who I became, by the grace of Aslan."

"Aslan! You said He... He died!?" Caspian's world felt like it was shattering. That their greatest hope, the Lion Himself, was dead and gone...

Edmund placed a comforting hand on the prince's arm. His face was a awash with peace. "Yes, and He rose again. Because He had committed no treachery, and freely offered Himself to be killed in the place of a traitor, the Stone Table cracked - as you can still see - and Aslan came back to life; as such the punishment for treason was lifted from any and all who turn to Him."**2**

Caspian could hardly grasp the concept. "The punishment was lifted? For anyone?" He could not picture his uncle offering such lenience to even one of his officers, much less a servant or commoner. Treason was a grave offence and traitors were executed without exception for a reason - they could not be trusted to live.

Edmund nodded. "And because I was shown the mercy and justice of the Lion, I strove to show the same to any who stood before me in court; and any who repented and called upon the Name of Aslan were given another chance at life. Yes, there were some who abused that second chance, and were taken to task under the full weight of the Law. However, most took the chance to become something so much more than what they had been."

"I... I think I might understand now why you dealt with the Fell personally instead of letting one of the others."

Edmund snorted. "You seem to think I was the only one who interacted with the Fell outside of battle. While I did so with the most regularity, I wasn't the only one, or even the first: that honor goes to Susan."

"The Gentle?"

"Indeed. And the most outrageous, to the point of foolhardy, has to go to Peter… though Lucy is a close second."

"The High King? Foolhardy!?"

"You would be surprised what sort of shenanigans Peter would get up to if left to his own devices long enough. Of course he would say the same about me, but that's what it means to be a brother."

"Can… can you tell me?" the prince asked. "I mean, how did Queen Susan come to be the first to treat with a Fell Narnian? What makes High King Peter's and Queen Lucy's interactions so 'outrageous'?"

Edmund laughed. "Well, settle in, Caspian. It's time you learned your history."

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

The word Redeem means "to buy back" or "to restore [something] to its rightful place at a cost", and a Redeemer is the own who pays the price.

**1:** The blanket term for the "bad guys" in Chronicles of Narnia is "Fell". The word implies two things, a) that they had not always been bad because they had to "fall" from somewhere, and b) they could "get back up" again. So I developed the idea of the Redeemed: those who had once been Fell but chose to mend their ways and serve Aslan.

**2:** I'm sorry if this comes off as preachy. I consider the Chronicles of Narnia to be an allegory/parallel of various elements of Christianity, and LWW is clearly about salvation and redemption with Aslan mirroring Jesus. It is something so integral to the plot, characters, and theme that I couldn't exclude it, and I honestly didn't want to even try. The Gospel is not something to shy away from.


	2. Chapter 2: The Gentle

**Note:** I will be including Oreius in this chapter, despite him being a movie-original character. I can't help it: the guy has like three lines the entire film, and I think he's the most interesting character there. Sorry to dump on the movies, but as a massive Narnia fan I guess I set my standards a little too high.

* * *

Year 1 of New Spring**1**

"Your Majesties, if I may have a moment?"

Four pairs of eyes turned toward the doorway of the ballroom, and the dance instructor – a kindly but stern Faun – excused himself. No one was under any delusions about the severity of the request. Even Peter and Edmund, who were all too glad to get out of dance lessons, were worried why they were being interrupted by the General.

"What is the matter, Oreius?" Peter asked.

"The guards have taken four Talking Wolves into custody, and it is important that you see to them expediently," the Centaur replied.

"Usually you just wait until the regular court time," Edmund said. He eyed Oreius, but the General gave away no tells. "What makes these Wolves an exception?"

"The eldest identified herself as the mate of Maugrim, along with three of their get."**2**

That made Edmund's blood run cold. He might have only seen the savage Wolf for a short time over a month ago, but the fear of who he was and what he almost accomplished still lingered in his nightmares. From the dangerously pale faces of his siblings, the king guessed they still felt the fear as well – and he knew for a fact that Susan had woken in tears from a nightmare about the Wolf barely five days ago.

"Why would they choose to attack now?" Peter asked, his hands grasping at the empty air where his sword should have been hanging.

Oreius shook his head, an almost perplexed look touching his features. "They did not. They presented themselves to the guards and accepted detainment without protest. The only thing is that they appealed directly to Your Majesties to present their supplication and receive judgment."

Peter took in a deep breath. "Right, you three..."

"Don't even finish that sentence, you prat," Edmund growled. "You're not doing this alone. Besides, we have to go with you. That sort of appeal requires all four of us to be present, right?" He directed his question at the Centaur, who nodded in agreement. All Four would need to hear the supplication and pass judgment, or it would be a violation of the law and the rights of citizens of Narnia – criminal or not.

The Four took a short detour on their way to the throne room in order to grab the boys' swords and Lucy's dagger and cordial; Susan opted to not bring her Christmas gifts on account of their impracticality in this situation, though she did tuck a knife up her sleeve.**3** Oreius kept close the whole time, one hand on his sword.

In the throne room were the Wolves. All four had had their front paws shackled together, and had either one or two guards standing very close. The eldest Wolf, a buff female covered in scars and missing patches of fur, had also received a chain around her neck as an extra precaution.

The herald announced the Four Kings and Queens into the room, and Peter wasted no time taking charge of the situation – despite having little color in his face. "Speak, Wolf. What would you have of Us?"

The eldest dropped to her belly, tail tucked in close, and ears down; the three others followed her into the submissive position only a second later. "O Kings and Queens, blessed of Aslan, I am Vel of the Grim Pack,**4** sometime mate of Maugrim and the Alpha Female until such time as my pup takes a mate for himself. I ask that you look kindly on us and show mercy in the wake of our great loss: first our Alpha Male and his Mistress, and second all but nine of our Pack, five of which are little more than pups who did not serve the False Queen."

"So you four served the White Witch?" Peter asked.

"No!" One of the three younger Wolves surged up to his paws, only to freeze with the blade of a spear coming to rest on his throat.

"Au," Vel growled. The Wolf whimpered, and sat, but did not move farther down from there.

"Your Majesties, please, if you must punish those who directly served the Witch then kill me, but please do not harm my litter-mate or younger brothers. Pil and Tar are too young, they were not accepted into the Witch's service before she died, and Nae… she is crippled, the Battle of Beruna took the use of her back legs, she doesn't deserve anymore punishment than that. My dam**5** doesn't deserve anymore either. She has sent two of her litters into the Witch's service, and I and Nae are the only survivors out of seven. Of her third litter only Pil and Tar have reached their first year. Please, have mercy on my Pack; as the new Alpha Male I offer myself in their stead."

"Augrim!" Vel snapped, earning her a warning jerk of the chain. "Think you the Pack will survive without an Alpha? Who is left to take your place? Lay down and be silent until you can speak sensibly."

Au whimpered and returned to his submissive position on his belly. His whole body was trembling, as were the two younger wolves.

Vel returned her attention to the Four, who were appearing less and less fearful, and more and more thoughtful. "You asked what we would have of you, High King. This is my plea: that you take and do unto me any punishment you wish upon my Pack, pardoning Au to lead it as Alpha under yourselves; then take my two youngest, Pil and Tar, into your service as you see fit."

"Are you so arrogant to request the return of your sacred position which you forfeited?" one of the guards, a burly Tiger, growled.

Vel all but flattened herself to the floor. "I would never seek to rise above my station in such a manner. Even a simple servant is too high a position for one such as myself, but my pups have not committed the sins I have, so they might be worthy of servitude."

"Forgive my ignorance," Edmund said, speaking slowly as he carefully recalled his lessons in courtly language and etiquette, "I am unaware of this 'sacred position' you speak of. Would you care to enlighten me?"

The court chronicler, who was also their history teacher and an adviser, shuffled forward. As an elderly Badger he suffered from stiff joints and had to move slower than most, but his voice was still strong and it carried across the room. "In the days before the White Witch invaded Narnia, when those of the line of King Frank, First of that Name, still sat upon the throne, Wolves were looked on with respect and reverence. For out of all the Beasts to be personal guards of the royal family, the Wolves were always counted among their number. And out of the many Wolf Packs, it was the Grim Pack that always had at least one of their number as a personal guard to either the king or queen or heir. Although there was no written pact between the Grim Pack and the royal family, it came to be known throughout Narnia that a Grim Wolf was as good as the highest knight and should be accorded such respect."

"Thank you, Professor Earthenden," Edmund said. "If I understand correctly, the Wolves switched their allegiance to the White Witch when she came, choosing the False Queen over the rightful kings and queens."

"Correct," Vel said, "It is the highest shame of the Wolf Packs, the one sin we could never atone for."

There were a few beats of silence in the Great Hall as everyone waited to see if there would be anymore input to the situation. When no one stepped forward to add their opinion, Peter turned to Edmund. Normally, the Four would excuse themselves to a separate chamber to discuss the supplication and their response – since most Narnians had sharp ears and would hear even the softest whisper from the thrones. However, Edmund felt that this case was already decided, and it looked like Peter thought so as well.

The eldest Pevensie raised a hand to block his lips from the spectators and mouthed, 'Pardon?'

Edmund nodded and mouthed back, 'Full pardon.'

Peter turned to the girls, presumably to ask the same, and Edmund saw them also nod; although Lucy looked more like she was bouncing than nodding, and tiny giggles were escaping every few seconds.

Rising from his throne, Peter cleared his throat. With everyone's attention on him the High King stood tall, and Edmund could see the glimmer of the great king he would become. He hesitated for a moment, probably to gather his thoughts into the flowery language of the court and said, "This is Our judgment! We Four do hereby grant full pardon to the Grim Wolf Pack on the condition that every member swears loyalty first to the Lion Aslan, and second to the kings and Queens of Narnia. Velgrim is hereby charged with the task that upon taking the oath of loyalty she return to her Pack and raise her children and grandchildren in the ways of Aslan until her death. Augrim is hereby recognized as Alpha Male of the Grim Pack under Us and under Aslan, and is charged to lead his Pack in the ways of Aslan until his death."

Peter then paused. Murmurs at the unorthodox judgment were filling the room. The Wolves, and their guards, were stunned speechless – though one of the youngest was wagging his tail a tiny bit. Though obviously hesitant, the guards dutifully removed the chains binding the Wolves.

"As for Pilgrim and Targrim..." Peter began slowly, and Edmund understood his hesitance. They were still unsure of all the nuances of castle life and servitude. What exactly were they to do with two yearling pups who had been offered to them? Would it be rude to decline the offer?

"I will take them as my guard." The room froze, and as one all eyes turned to the eldest queen as she stood from her throne.

"Susan!" Peter said, breaking out of 'king mode' and straight into 'worried older brother mode'.

But the raven-haired girl simply ignored everyone as she glided down the dais to stand before the four Wolves. The Wolves were squeezing themselves into the floor, and the two youngest actually gave in to their instincts to roll over and bare their stomachs in total submission.

"Pilgrim and Targrim, the sins of your forefathers have been pardoned, first by the Lion and now by Us. They are forgotten, and will no longer be accounted to you. We accept you as Our personal guard if you will have Us," Susan said, her knack court language evident in the beautiful speech. Edmund felt himself tearing up and he dashed at his eyes. It reminded him so much of the two most important conversations he had with Aslan: the one when he was rescued from the Witch, and the one right after the Battle of Beruna when he had broken down from the guilt and relief of the Lion's death and resurrection respectively.**6**

"Yeah! I mean..." one of the pups sat up and shifted from paw to paw. "I, Tar of the Grim Pack, swear myself to be loyal to the Lion Aslan and to the Four Kings and Queens, and accept the offer of Queen Susan to be her personal guard."

"Me too," the other pup said, also getting up. "I, Pil of the Grim Pack, swear myself to be loyal to the Lion Aslan and to the Four Kings and Queens, and accept the offer of Queen Susan to be her personal guard."

Susan nodded, looking every inch the queen she was, and turned to their General. Oreius was managing to almost look gobsmacked despite being a Centaur. "General Oreius, We entrust the training of Pilgrim and Targrim to you; raise them to be knights as you see fit, and return them to Us when they are ready."

"I hear and obey, My Queen," the Centaur said with a bow. Whatever else could be said about their General, he was unwavering in his loyalty, no matter what his personal feelings towards the matter.

"You can't be serious, Su!" Peter said. He had completely abandoned appearances as a king now, and had moved to stand next to her, arms flailing a little. "They're the sons of Maugrim! You still get nightmares of him."

Susan crossed her arms, her queenly aura leaving to show a twelve year old arguing with her fourteen year old brother. "So they should be punished for something their father did?"

"Of course not!" Peter threw his hands in the air. "But personal guards? You don't need to force yourself to constantly be around them. There's plenty of other places they could go. Places where you don't have to be within arm's reach day in and day out."

Then Edmund saw it. It was a tiny glance in his direction. Barely noticeable. But in that moment, he understood exactly what he sister was thinking. "Then you shouldn't be forced to have me as a king either," he said.

His voice, and words, snapped his siblings out of their fight, and brought everyone's attention on himself. "What?" Peter asked, bewildered.

"Aslan pardoned my treason, so I won't be punished for it," Edmund said. "But… that doesn't mean I'm fit to be a king. You guys, and all of Narnia, don't have to put up with me as king, being a constant reminder that Aslan died because of my treachery. Just say the word and I'll step down; 'there's plenty of other places I could go.'"

"What? No! Ed, that's not..." Peter trailed off. His eyes closed and his head bowed. Whatever internal battle he was having showed itself as he clenched the hilt of his sword, then all the tension eased away. Peter smiled, but it was filled with sorrow and defeat. "Alright, I get it. I apologize for my behavior. If Susan accepts Pil and Tar as her guards then I accept it as well."

In a way, it was understandable that the entire court erupted into cheers.

* * *

"It took a little less than a year for them to reach the point where Oreius allowed them to actually serve as Susan's guards, and by that time her nightmares had all but stopped. They went on to be the two most acclaimed guards in the castle, who everyone looked up to and aspired to be like. They had to retire due to old age about twenty years later, but two of their nephews stepped up to take their places," Edmund said, finishing the first story.

"That's..." Caspian breathed. "Incredible."

Edmund laughed. "If you think that's incredible, you'll be blown away by Peter's story."

"Please tell me," the prince asked.

"Very well..."

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

**1:** I like to think that the Narnians reset their calendar year once the White Witch was defeated. Not only would this parallel our calendars (Anno Domini = the Year of our Lord; references Jesus), but it would allow them to have a clean slate, to start fresh after a century of bondage.

**2:** "Get" is an outdated term referring to an animal's offspring. It likely originated from the word "beget" which refers to a human bringing a child into existence via reproduction. I used this term because I thought it fit with the flowery/old English used by the people of the court in Narnia and Archenland.

**3:** It will become more obvious as this series goes on, but I don't consider "Gentle" to equal "weak", nor do I think Susan was a kickbutt warrior (like the movies portray). It is possible to be a strong woman and still be gentle. The books said she had a distaste for battle, meaning - to me - that she only went to war when it was absolutely necessary, and that she likely used her gifts as Father Christmas intended: self-defense. This does not make her weak or a pushover, it makes her tenderhearted; when she must step forward to defend herself and her people, I imagine she does so completely and admirably.

**4:** I decided to do something interesting with the names. Since it seems random whether a Talking Beast will have a surname or not, I decided to have the Pack and Herd animals share a distinctive suffix that would act in place of a surname. Those that live a bit more spread out (or even in colonies with separate family units) will have separate surnames - and whether they prefer to be called by personal name or surname is individual.

**5:** "Dam" refers to the mother of an animal, usually a domesticated animal, but I figured it worked here. The counterpart is "Sire" referring to the father of an animal.

**6:** It's never confirmed whether the boys (or any other Narnians) knew about Aslan's death prior to the battle or not. Either way, I can't see it staying a secret - especially with the Stone Table cracked in half - and I definitely can't see Edmund just accepting what happened without a long talk with Aslan. Imagine: your personal hero, who saved you from a dark path, suddenly reveals that in order to do so they had to be humiliated, beaten, and brutally murdered. Talk about feeling guilty! Thankfully, Edmund and Aslan work through all of Ed's issues together.


	3. Chapter 3: The Magnificent

**Note:** Sorry for the delay in updating. Since my priority is the ongoing story of "Raising a Nin-Wizard" I sometimes have to put this one on the back burner for a short time; though I will try to keep that to a minimum. If all goes well, the fourth and final chapter of this installment will be posted on Friday.

* * *

Year 3 of New Spring

There was a commotion at the front gate. Both Peter and Edmund, having been visiting the kennels nearby, ran over to see what it was about. Edmund kept one hand on his sword, just in case, and noticed that Peter did as well. It had become habit for both kings to wear their swords even within the safety of Cair Paravel – there were simply too many opportunistic Fell still alive and roaming Narnia to do otherwise.**1**

At the gate it appeared that two of the guards were restraining a Man, while others kept their spears leveled at him. Except there was something... off. The way he held himself, the tilt of his head, it was all distinctly canine.

"Werewolf," Peter snarled, drawing Rhindon and half-stepping in front of Edmund. The younger king allowed this and kept his eyes sharp on their surroundings; there was rarely ever just one Fell.

Oreius cantered up at about the same time Peter reached the perimeter of guards. "What is going on here?" the Centaur demanded.

"General, my Kings," one of the guards, a grizzled Satyr said. "We apprehended this Werewolf coming to the front gate, he was not attacking so we spared his life for now."

"Was he alone, Captain?"

"So far, sir. I've sent a group of scouts to check the surrounding area, but nothing has been reported yet."

"I came alone," said the Werewolf. His voice was low, but held none of the guttural tones Edmund was used to hearing in the middle of battle.

"Speak only when spoken to," snapped a Leopard who rested her paws on the prisoner's shoulders, claws out, and kept her teeth near the back of his neck.

Peter held up a hand in a gesture that was more taking command of the situation than asking permission to speak. After three years in Narnia, the seventeen year old wore his royalty like a well tailored cape. "What is your purpose here, Werewolf?"

Though already on his knees, the Werewolf looked like he might have dropped fully to the ground had he not been held in place by his arms; the Apes on either side were not giving him any room for movement. "High King, Alpha of Alphas, second only to Aslan, Highest over All, have mercy on your servants who are in bondage. I am Ulric, former Beta of the Ghost Clan in the Shuddering Woods, no doubt I have been cast out by coming here. The Alpha of the Ghost Clan is loyal only to the White Witch, and seeks to avenge her, at great cost to the clan. We have all suffered under his leadership. Myself, and many others, have decided to swear ourselves to a new Alpha under the Four Sovereigns, and live as peaceful Narnians."

Peter narrowed his eyes. "Why have you come here?"

"For the sake of my clan, and the members who would wish to live in peace. A group of Werewolves would never be looked on with anything but hostility, so I came alone to beg Your Majesty to grant them safe harbor within your kingdom," said Ulric.

"And yourself?" Edmund asked, not missing the pronoun used.

The Werewolf bowed his head even lower. "The Alpha, Conri the Ferocious, is my half-brother. Our sire, Athaulf, was little more than a beast, taking many mates and forcing his offspring to compete for the right to live and for favor. Of the Ghost Clan, I alone have a chance at removing Alpha Conri from power, but I will not risk the clan on a gamble. I have already told those loyal to me to escape during the Challenge Fight; if I win then I will find them, if I loose then they will be safe under the protection of their new Alpha, High King Peter."

"You swear yourself to Us?" Peter asked.

"I swear myself to High King Peter as my Alpha and his royal siblings under him."

"You swear yourself to Aslan?"

"I swear myself to Aslan as my High Alpha."

Peter nodded and sheathed his sword. Edmund frowned, but followed suit. "Release this Werewolf. He is a Free Narnian, and a guest in this castle."

Murmurs of surprise and unease flowed through the courtyard like a wave. The guards obeyed with obvious reluctance. Edmund hissed, "Have you completely lost your head, Peter?"

But the High King stood tall. Addressing the restless crowd, and the stunned speechless Werewolf, he said, "There are many things that a spy will do in order to gain the trust of their target, but there are somethings that cannot be faked. Despite his pride, Beta Ulric lowered himself before Us, allowing capture, humiliation, and interrogation with no thought to his own survival. And not once, but twice did he acknowledge Aslan as King of Narnia, and also swore himself to Him."

Then he turned to one of the page boys standing off to the side, "Inform Housekeeper of what has happened, and make sure she sees to it that Ulric receives a bed, food, and amenities for the night."

To Oreius he said, "General, I would have you put together a small company to go with myself and Ulric back to his clan. I would like to leave with the first light. You yourself will stay here to watch over my siblings."

"Now see here," Edmund cut in. "I'm not letting you go gallivanting off on your own. I will accompany you, or you will not go at all." He set himself into a stance that made it quite clear he was willing to fight if the High King disagreed. At a few months shy of fourteen, he was still scrawny and short, but both he and Peter knew that it only made him more lethal when he broke out the 'dirty' fighting moves.

Thankfully, Peter deferred. "Very well." He turned to another page, "Make sure Cook is informed so that provisions are made, and have Ruby saddled and ready for me in the morn."

Ruby was one of Peter's two warhorses.**2** While Diamond was a powerful stallion, perfect for leading a cavalry charge, Ruby was an agile mare, swift and viscous in a close-quarters fight. Considering they were headed into the Shuddering Woods, she was the obvious choice.

"You… you are coming to my clan, Your Majesty?" Ulric asked.

"Of course," Peter said, "We shall witness your ascent to Alpha with Our own eyes, and impart Our blessing onto you and your kin."

* * *

The day had dawned bright and clear, the perfect conditions for everything to go horribly wrong. Perhaps Edmund was just being a pessimist, but he couldn't stop thinking about all the different ways they could be ambushed if anyone let their guard down due to how nice the day was.

Oreius must have been of a like mind, because their company was just shy of an army: two Bears, five Great Cats, eight Dwarf archer-and-swordmen all mounted on warponies,**3** four Dryad archers of which two doubled as healers, ten Satyr pike-men, two Eagles, an armored Boar, and a Unicorn. Add to that two Kings and a Werewolf, and the company of 36 were swiftly making their way through Narnia. It would take a full day of travel, plus some hours the next day, to reach their destination, and Edmund was very apprehensive about camping out a stone's throw from a known Fell haunt.

They had been working tirelessly to rid the Fell from Narnia. Campaign after campaign slowly whittled their numbers and pushed them back. Now it was mostly the northern and western most parts of Narnia that were still dangerous, but the deepest forests still held a great number of enemies in hiding. Shuddering Wood, once called Singing Wood,**4** was so named for the large concentration of Fell who lived there even now, and the Narnian army had been having trouble penetrating the thick forest due to the great number of Fell Trees who guarded it.

It was nearly sundown when Peter called for the company to halt and begin setting up camp for the night. There had been no trouble on the road, and they had made such good time that the edge of Shuddering Wood was within sight. Edmund figured that this would be the perfect time for an ambush, and he kept a hand on his sword in preparation. Unfortunately, just because he knew it was coming, didn't mean he knew when, where, or who the target would be.

The shout of "Ambush!" followed almost instantly by a cry of pain that rang distinctly human sent a flash of ice through Edmund's veins. He was running with his sword drawn almost before he consciously realized he needed to get to Peter's side. It only took a few seconds to arrive at the site, just in time to see a mottled gray wolf – who wasn't just a wolf – fall to a hail of arrows. A second foe lay some yards away, caught half-way between the form of a man and a wolf, Rhindon still sticking out of his heart. And beside the Fell, being fussed over by one of the healers, was the High King.

"Peter!" Edmund shouted, racing to his brother's side. He felt his heart stutter at the sight of blood – so much blood – pouring from four slashes down the right side of his face. The blood on the dead Werewolf's claws left no doubt as to what caused such an injury.

"I'm alright, Ed," Peter said with a tight smile. "It's not as bad as it looks, he didn't even catch my eye."

"Barely," the healer muttered. "The lid even got scratched a little, only Aslan's Grace protected against farther damage."

A whimper drew Edmund's attention to the side. Ulric was face down in the dirt in a clearly submissive position. "My fault… it's all my fault. Lyall was after me. It's all my fault."

"Nonsense," Peter said. "I underestimated the reach of his arm is all."

"You were defending me," Ulric countered. "If you had raised your shield fully, instead of giving half to my protection, you would not have been caught by his claws. You should not have jumped in; I could have fought him off."

Peter frowned, then winced as it pulled on the damaged skin. "Ulric, look at me." He waited until the Werewolf lifted his head the smallest amount to allow eye contact. "As High King it is my duty to defend my people, of which you are a member. I would be very remiss if I did not come to your aid, especially since the attack was aimed at you. Perhaps you would have won the battle, but it would have been at injury to yourself, which would put you at a disadvantage in tomorrow's fight. I will not allow you and your clan to suffer any more under the leadership of Conri the Ferocious, which means ensuring that he is no longer Alpha by day's end tomorrow. If I must take injury to myself to do so, then it is a small price to pay."

Ulric whined and crawled on his belly until he was close enough to nuzzle Peter's leg, an action provoked by the love and awe he was feeling for the High King. Edmund understood the sentiment, as did Peter who placed a tender hand on the top of the Werewolf's head. The younger king turned away to give the tender moment the privacy it deserved, and instead focused on cleaning Rhindon for Peter. He also ordered that the bodies of the Fell be placed on the edge of camp until he, Peter, and Ulric could come to a decision about their disposal.

When he turned back to the pair, Ulric was sitting up and the right side of Peter's face was completely swathed in bandages. Peter took Rhindon with a grateful nod, and laid it across his lap.

"You knew those two?" Edmund asked Ulric.

He nodded. "Lyall and Lycus, litter-mates born in the same year as Conri. They are… were fiercely loyal to him; they would not have accepted me as their new Alpha, and would have been punished for it. Conri must have sent them after me, and they likely decided that it was worth dying if it meant I was too injured to fight my brother." While his tone was flat as one stating absolute fact, Edmund could see the grief in the corners of his eyes. In the end, the pair were still a part of his clan even if they wanted him dead. Speaking of which…

"Pretty poor sport for Conri to rig the fight in his favor like that," Edmund said.

Ulric shook his head. "If I were still a member of the clan, then yes it would be. However, it is likely that Conri has cast me out of the clan, making me an Outsider. As such they are merely defending their territory from an encroaching stranger."

Peter frowned. "What does this mean for the Challenge Fight?"

"Not much," Ulric said. "The rules of combat remain the same, as does outside help being forbidden. The only difference is that a Challenge Fight between clan members is fought to submission, while a Challenge Fight between Alpha and Outsider is fought to the death."

"That isn't 'not much'," Edmund pointed out.

The grief was back in Ulrics eyes. "It does not matter. Under Conri's leadership, any who oppose him are killed for their insubordination; and he would never surrender, even to his dying breath. This Fight would have been to the death whether I was a clan member or not."

* * *

They arrived at their destination an hour before high noon. A large clearing made by a fallen tree, the log and stump of which were still only half-rotten, was bordered on the far side by several Werewolves in various states of transformation.

One in man-form, whose face vaguely resembled Ulric's, stood in front of the rest. "So a coward has come into our territory with a meager peace offering of sacrificial pawns," he called out.

"I have come with those who will bear witness to our Challenge Fight, Brother," Ulric responded.

The other snarled and growled. "You are no brother of mine, Outsider."

Ulric did not waver. "Then let it be known that I, Ulric Without Clan, do hereby issue Challenge to Conri the Ferocious, Alpha of the Ghost Clan."

"Ulric!" a feminine voice cried. A young woman with matted hair was moving towards them from behind the line of Werewolves. However, as she got close, Conri lashed out his clawed hand. Blood spurted from a wound to her face, and she cried out in pain, instantly crumpling to a submissive huddle at Conri's feet. Ulric growled low in his throat.

"You dare..." the Alpha growled so all could hear. "You dare to call out to an Outsider with such familiarity in the presence of your mate, Bitch?"**5**

The woman's form was shivering, and her voice was so soft that Edmund was unable to hear her words of reply. Whatever she said got her a brutal kick to the ribs, and Ulric flinched a little. Conri then turned back to the Free Narnians, ignoring the shivering form that remained curled up beside him.

"You will have your Fight, Outsider, but a Challenge is a clan matter. Your hangers-on have no business here," Conri said.

"I have business here!" Peter declared. Shocked eyes of the Werewolves turned his way. "I am High King Peter of Narnia, Alpha over Ulric and any who would have him as their Alpha. Know this, Conri the Ferocious, your days of tyranny are at their end. If in this Fight Ulric is unable to throw off your shackles, then I will issue Challenge to you in his stead. In the Name of Aslan, ere day's end you shall draw your last breath!"

Conri threw back his head in a blood-curdling scream that descended into a howl. It was a war-cry, filled with blood-lust, and it made the hairs on the back of Edmund's neck stand straight up. He marched forward with dominating strides, and Ulric walked out to meet him. Werewolves, all in wolf-form, poured out of the forest to encircle the pair in a wide radius. Edmund could see why they were named the 'Ghost' Clan: every coat of fur was on the spectrum between white and black, leaning heavily on the lighter side.

When Conri and Ulric reached the center of the clearing, and a ring of fifteen Werewolves settled into stances around them, they both raised their heads in twin howls. Their voices clashed in a preface to the greater battle to come. Then… the Fight was on.

It was chaos incarnate. Both fighters swapped between man and wolf and man-wolf and wolf-man at blinding speeds. They grappled, swiped, bit, clawed, punched, kicked, pounced, and dodged. Fur flew, grass was trampled, and dust rose. Soon the cloud around the pair was so thick that only vague shadows could be seen.

Then a scream-like yelp, and the scent of blood so thick even the Sons of Adam could smell it. The ring of Werewolves raised their heads and howled. Slowly the dust settled.

The scene revealed was gory. A white wolf with gray face and legs that faded to black at the points**6** lay dead in the clearing, his throat ripped out. Standing over him, like the spirit whose name the clan shared, was a pure white wolf, muzzle and fangs dripping crimson.

Hackles raised, lips curled back in a snarl, the Werewolf addressed the spectators, "I, Ulric Without Clan, claim the victory and the title of Alpha of the Ghost Clan! Let any who disagree issue me Challenge here and now."

Fourteen wolves dropped to the ground in submission. The fifteenth growled and lunged. He never reached Ulric as an arrow felled him halfway.

The dwarf who fired the arrow merely said, "I heard no issue of Challenge, so I acted as I would toward any other form of aggression against one whom the High King has given his protection to."

Ulric, still as a wolf, relaxed then. He sat down and let out a long howl, his clan members joining their voices with his. Then a white wolf with a black streak down the center-line of her back ran to him; she nuzzled him, and licked his wounds and face. She only stopped when Ulric stood and shifted into the form of a man, much more battered than before. Shifting herself as well revealed that she was none other than the woman whom Conri abused earlier.

The new Alpha took her hand and led her to where the two kings were waiting. "High King Peter, King Edmund, may I present Ylva. From this day forward she will be my mate and Alpha Female of the Ghost Clan." Both kings greeted her warmly and bowed over her hand, causing her to blush.

A light gray yearling ran up and yipped happily around Ulric's legs. The man laughed and said, "You should be polite around the Kings of Narnia."

The young Werewolf paused and then shifted into a boy of about Edmund's age. He gazed at the kings through a mop of unruly hair. He bowed, somewhat clumsily, and then half-hid himself behind Ulric.

"This is my youngest brother, Faolan," Ulric introduced. "Thankfully he and his sister were born less than a week before Conri issued Challenge to our sire, or he might have been killed for being too small like his dam's previous litter. As Alpha I will do away with the tradition of killing small whelps among other actions that make us even less than dumb beasts."

Peter smiled and clapped Ulric on the shoulder. "You will make a fine Alpha as long as your first loyalty is always Aslan. Do not fear asking for my help or counsel, I will always be willing to give it. We do hereby recognize the Ghost Clan as Free Narnians under Us."

* * *

"Thanks to Alpha Ulric and the Ghost Clan, the Shuddering Wood was cleared of Fell by the end of the year. They went on to inspire many other Fell to repent and swear their loyalties to us Four and Aslan. Ulric and Ylva ended up having four pups: Petran, Suzilva, Edmoull, and Lussan. Obviously they were all named after us, although Ulric asked special permission from Lucy since Lussan was a boy. She was pleased as punch about it," Edmund finished with a chuckle.

Caspian opened and closed his mouth for a few minutes, trying to fathom the story. "The High King doesn't have any scars though," he said eventually.

Edmund shrugged. "Side effect of returning to England is our scars faded into almost nonexistence; you have to know what you're looking for and where to find it in order to see them."**7**

"He did not hesitate to kill the Werewolf here," Caspian pointed out. While it had been too dark to see during the actual fight, the Fell Creature had obviously died of a stab wound – and neither Caspian nor Edmund had blood on their blades.

"No, because he was Fell," Edmund said. "Peter never hesitates against Fell, no matter the species. And Ulric wouldn't have wanted him to, not when he killed several Fell Werewolves himself in defense of Peter over the decades of their friendship. To the two of them, a person was defined by their allegiance, not by their parentage."

Caspian nodded, then asked, "You had also mentioned Lucy had quite the story as well?"

"Of course, better settle in for this one."

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

About the names:

Ulric means "wolf power"

Conri means "king wolf"

Athaulf means "father wolf"

Lyall and Lycus both mean "wolf"

Ylva means "she-wolf"

Faolan means "little wolf"

I thought it was an appropriate naming scheme; most are based in the languages of Norse and Gaelic, though Latin, Old English, and Germanic are thrown in for flavor.

**1.** I highly doubt that all of the Fell Creatures a) died in the Battle of Beruna, or b) fled out of Narnia's boarders after the Witch's death. To me it makes more sense that a lot of them continued plaguing Narnia for the next few years until the Four were able to drive them all out.

**2.** While HHB affirms that Talking Horses were used for mounted battle in times of war, I can't see any Horse just allowing themselves to be "on call" for whenever Peter goes to battle the Fell. Besides, this was supposed to be a journey without confrontation, the battle-readiness was just a precaution. So, no. No Talking Horses being ridden today. The same argument goes for Edmund - Phillip from the movie will not be making an appearance at all unless a later installment is focused on an actual War (and even then he may or may not show up).

**3.** With how many Narnians are of different heights than humans it's only common sense that there would be accommodations. I see no problem with ponies being trained for war the same way horses are trained for war. Also, if I'm not mistaken, some parts of our world did use ponies in warfare because they were heartier than horses in certain terrains.

**4.** Names are given for a reason; none of the place names in Narnia are ever explained outright, but some give out clues (River Shribble is small, Lantern Waste has the lamppost, Western Woods is to the west, etc.). However, there is never a real reason given for why it's called "Shuddering" Wood. There are so many negative connotations with the word "shuddering" that I decided to give the place some backstory based around that; Singing Wood is a name I made up for that backstory.

**5.** I use this term in the original usage. "Bitch" refers to a female dog or wolf (or, oddly enough, fox or otter). It is typically used to refer to one that is still capable of breeding (aka not fixed), but is not necessarily that specific. Side note: my aunt breeds dogs, so I grew up knowing the proper use of the word; imagine my surprise when I learned that most people used it in a derogatory manner against women.

**6.** The "points" I refer to are the paws, muzzle, and ears. Technically the tail is also a point, but this one specifically is not colored. When an animal (typically dog, cat, rabbit, sheep, or horse) is referred to as "pointed" that means that the feet, face, ears, and tail are all a darker color than the rest of the body. For example, a the Siamese is a cat breed recognized for their point coloration.

**7.** This is my compromise. I desperately want the Four to have something tangible when they return to England (namely their scars), but I admit that having a Medieval lifetime worth of scars overnight would cause many, many uncomfortable inquiries. Hence the "faded to oblivion"/"only see what you're looking for" option.


	4. Chapter 4: The Valiant

**Note:** Well, it's finally here. I bet some of you doubted I would ever finish this story... I don't blame you, I almost doubted it too. Sorry about the long hiatus, hopefully it was worth it.

* * *

Year 5 of New Spring

Edmund gaped at the fourteen-year-old he claimed as his sister. Lucy had the brightest smile on her face while covered head to toe in various bodily fluids, most of which Edmund was trying very hard not to think about.

"You… what?"

"I made a new friend!" Lucy said.

"I got that part, but how… what… why…?"

The youngest queen giggled, and began her story.

* * *

Lucy breathed deeply as she and her mount made their way into the Western Wood. Though she was the most outgoing of the Four royals, even the youngest queen needed some time to just herself and her thoughts. Which is why she was riding in the predawn hours without her guard.

Her regular guards, a Cougar couple named Mirsad and Ira, had been skeptical when she offered to give them a few days off while she visited Mr. Tumnus. Unfortunately for them, there was no reason to doubt her intentions because it was well known that Lucy had an extreme distaste for lying. True to her word, the youngest queen had gone to visit her oldest and dearest friend; it was afterwards, while they were staying at his house, that she had slipped the watch of her temporary guards.

There was honestly very little need to be so vigilant anymore. It had been over a month since the Western Wood, and all of Narnia, had been completely cleared of the last of the Fell. She giggled as she recalled the aftermath of the final battle, when Peter had formally gifted the Wood to Edmund.**1** The younger king's face had been a sight to be seen, and Lucy still felt giddy when she thought about it.

It was a very lovely Wood, and Edmund certainly deserved something like this. The only bother was the amount of 'silence'. Due to the high number of Trees and Animals who had pledged themselves to the Witch, without them there were large swaths of Wood that were uninhabited by any Narnian. It wasn't uncommon to travel for more than a mile in between seeing people, and even longer if one only accounted for the Trees themselves.

It was a sad state of affairs, but Lucy was hopeful that the Western Woods would be abounding in life after a few years. Until then she was thankful for the opportunity to get away from everything for a few hours to be alone with her thoughts.

A flash of gold on the edge of her vision had her pulling Cloud, her mare, to a halt. She scanned the forest. There, barely within sight, another flash of tawny gold, and she urged Cloud to walk in that direction.

"Aslan?" Lucy called. There was no answer, but just beyond the first sighting more gold flickered into view and gone. She kicked Cloud into a gallop.

She barely paid any attention to her surroundings as she was led deeper and deeper into the Wood. Even the rising of the sun was spared only a passing thought as the light made it easier to see her target. Not until she was nearly at the foothills of the mountains that separated Narnia from the Western Wild did she slow down, and that only because her guide had disappeared. She cast her gaze in every direction, trying to discern why she had been brought to this place.

An eerie quiet surrounded her. Neither Tree nor Beast stirred around her; the dumb animals were in hiding. Only the rippling of a nearby brook could be heard, and even that was muffled as if by a strange, foreboding spell.

Lucy jumped and Cloud shied. A cry like something between a scream and a bellow rang out in the silence. The hairs on Lucy's neck stood up. Cloud champed at her bit and shuffled in place, it was only long training that kept her from bolting. Lucy soothed her mare and dismounted, tying the reigns securely to a tree.

A few minutes passed before the cry sounded again, and the youngest queen made her way towards it. Father Christmas's gifts were a comforting weight at her side. Years of training kept her footfalls silent, not displacing even the tiniest twig or leaf.

Lucy followed the scream to the base of a large hill, where there was a crack between two boulders just big enough for a horse to squeeze through. She entered cautiously, taking a moment to allow her eyes to adjust before moving farther into the cavern. The sight she was met with elicited a gasp, for in the back of the cave was a Minotauress on her hands and knees, bawling in pain.

Usually it was difficult to distinguish a female Minotaur from a male Minotaur, the primary differences being the length of the horns and the width of the shoulders. However, there was no doubt as to the gender here. Lucy watched as the muscles surrounding a swollen belly relaxed from the most recent contraction; the Minotauress all but sagged against the rock she had scrabbled for purchase on while in the throws of labor.

Lucy took a step forward, and the Minotauress turned her exhausted gaze on her. "S-stay back!" she yelled, flinging an arm out in an attempt at aggression.

"Shh, I'm not going to hurt you or your baby," Lucy said, lowering herself to kneel on the floor. "Shh, it's alright. I'm Lucy. Can you tell me your name?"

The Minotauress eyed her warily, body shuddering from the ordeal it was going through. When the youngest queen made no movement, either to get closer or to leave, she said, "Damaris."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Damaris," Lucy said. "I'm a healer… well, and healer-in-training at least,**2** and I would like to help you. May I come closer?"

The cow frantically shook her head, and Lucy held up her hands. "That's alright, shh, shh. I won't come any closer until you want me to. I have some supplies outside; would you like me to bring you some water?"

Damaris considered the offer for a moment, and finally nodded. "Yes... please."

Lucy smiled wider, and slowly got to her feet. "I'll be right back," she said as she backed out of the cave.

The short distance to Cloud was covered quickly, and the mare nickered a greeting and tossed her head. It was obvious she was not happy to still be in the area, barely calming even under Lucy's soothing touch. Grabbing her water-skin, Lucy turned to go, then paused. She considered the horse, who was already pulling a little on her tether.

Another bellow startled both of them, and Lucy winced at the pain Damaris must have been feeling. Decision made, the youngest queen breathed a prayer to Aslan and relieved the mare of her saddlebags, saddle and blanket, leaving only the bridle with the reigns cut so as not to snag. Having brought some sketching materials, Lucy dashed off a quick note that she tucked securely into Cloud's browband.**3** She slapped the mare's rump and watched as she cantered off; with any luck, Cloud would make her way either to Mr. Tumnus or to the Western Outpost – both of which would bring the help she requested sometime between sundown today and mid-morning tomorrow. Worst case scenario would be if Cloud went all the way back to Cair Paravel, meaning Lucy would be stranded for four or five full days before help arrived.

Leaving the saddle, Lucy packed everything else – admittedly not much – into the saddle blanket and hauled it back to the makeshift birthing chamber. Not wanting to startle Damaris, Lucy called out her presence before entering with just the water-skin. She settled down in the same position she had been in earlier, the cow still watching her with thinly veiled fear.

"I have some water," Lucy said, showing the water-skin. "Here, I'm going to put it down in arms reach." She leaned forward, stretching as far as she could without moving her legs, and set the water-skin down. Only after she leaned back did Damaris reach out and take it, draining almost half of it to slake her thirst.

"This cave is pretty cold," Lucy said, "Which won't be good for the baby, will you let me start a small fire?"

With Damaris's permission, the youngest queen set about making a fire. It was near enough to the entrance that the smoke could escape, but not so far away that it wouldn't warm most of the cave. While she worked, Lucy kept talking.

"Where are you from, Damaris?"

"...The mountains."

"Ah, in the Western Wild, right?"

"Yes."

"You're pretty far away from your Herd, I bet they're worried for you."

"No... not likely."

"Oh? Why not?"

"I ran away."

The conversation paused as another contraction stole the Minotauress's breath away. Lucy coaxed a tiny spark into a flame and returned to sit just out of reach. When the contraction passed, Lucy asked, "What happened to make you leave home?"

The young cow looked away. "Nothing."

Lucy gave her a sad smile. "You know, I had to leave my home, too." Damaris gave the youngest queen her attention, so she continued. "It was several years ago. Our country was at war, and the city we lived in came under heavy attack, so all the children were sent away to the countryside where it was safer. I had to leave my mum, I don't know if she survived. My dad was already away, fighting on the front lines. It was just me and my brothers and sister, and I was so scared that we would be separated, too.

"Then, quite by accident, we made our way into Narnia. And though it was scary, and though we were split up for a while… we found a new home and a new family. It's not the same, it never will be, but that doesn't mean it's bad. Sometimes, I miss having a father and mother, but I have so much more now that it doesn't ache like it did those first few days away from home."

Damaris watched Lucy for a moment, then looked away. "I used to be part of the Iso Herd, which was one of the few who stayed neutral when the Witch began recruiting. We were loyal to neither Aslan nor Jadis. Everything was fine until a few years ago when survivors of battle against the Narnian army began to arrive. We accepted them, gave them shelter, and they… they began pressuring us to avenge them and their Herds. As more showed up, the discontent grew, especially as food began to run short and calves were born to parents where one was still loyal to the Witch and the other wasn't."

The Minotauress had to halt her story and allow another contraction to pass. Once it had, she continued, "I had just chosen a bull for myself. Boukratis wasn't the most powerful of the bachelors, but he was certainly enough to turn heads – mine included. I thought… I thought we were happy; he looked happy during the joining ceremony. But afterwards he wouldn't stop talking about 'raising a new era', and 'bringing back the glory of the Lady'. His friend, Dolion, one of the refugees, was always calling him away for 'important business' that he would not tell me about.

"Then I became pregnant, and Boukratis… he told me his plans. He and several others were raising an army – mostly of Minotaurs, but others were accepted – and they planned to be ready to strike at Narnia with an armed and trained force of over 15,000 in 12 years. By that time he wanted as many of his own get to be in the ranks of soldiers as possible. He… he was going to take my calf away after only four months! Then force me to have another right away.

"I appealed to Grandmother, who, as our Herd's Matron, could dissolve our joining and kick him out of the Herd, but she too had been swayed to give her allegiance to the Witch. She approved and commended their efforts to create an army in such a manner. I had no one else to turn to, so I ran away. I had nowhere to go, so I came here because I thought that they wouldn't chase me if I entered Narnia, and I knew the Lion would be more merciful than the Herd if I was caught."

Lucy longed to reach over and comfort the distressed Minotauress, but she kept her word to not come closer without permission. Instead she promised, "Damaris, you and your child are safe here. You are free. Narnia is your home now. No one here will take your baby from you, and we will not allow anyone else to either."

Damaris opened her mouth to say something, but it was strangled by a scream as another contraction hit. Lucy frowned. "Your contractions are getting closer together, please let me check your progress." Panting from exertion, Damaris nodded.

* * *

"Please do _not_ go into detail, Sister!" Edmund begged, ears already burning from embarrassment.

"Childbirth is natural, dear my Brother,**4**" Lucy teased. "Someday, after you take a wife, you will witness it for yourself."

The king felt all the blood drain from his face, and he quickly sat before he could faint from being too lightheaded. "Don't talk about such things, Lu, _please!_"

"Alright, alright," Lucy said, laughter clear in her voice. She glanced over to where the healers were bustling about between the cave and the wagon she had requested in her note. They must be almost ready to move the new mother. "Suffice to say that, by Grace of Aslan, everything went smoothly, without complications. Damaris brought a healthy baby girl into the world, and both mother and daughter are doing well."

"Aye, Her Majesty should be commended for her performance despite limited supplies," said one of the healers, a Pine Spirit named Oleander. He bowed to the royals. "Both Lady Damaris and her daughter are in fine health; we are ready to move them now."

"Thank you, Oleander," Lucy said, "I feared that the environment and my inexperience would cause harm. Please proceed, we shall be there momentarily." The healer bowed and left the pair, and Edmund watched as Lucy seemed to crumble into herself a little.

"Lucy? Are you alright?" he asked, standing and pulling her into a hug.

She clung to him, tears wetting his shirt. "I'm… I'm so g-glad they're al-alright. I've nev… never been in… in charge of a b-birth before. I've as-assisted so man… many times, but..." She shook her head and let the stress of the past twenty-four hours pour out of her eyes. It only took a minute before she began composing herself, though; it wouldn't do for her to be a crying mess in front of her new friend after all.

Edmund held her until she stopped shaking. "All better now, Sister?"

"Yes," she said, pulling back and allowing him to wipe away the last of her tears.

"Good, because you were brilliant. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn't been there. Now, it looks like Lady Damaris is almost done being settled into the wagon. Care to introduce me, M'lady?"

Lucy giggled and took his proffered arm. "Of course, M'lord."

As they approached, Edmund watched as the Minotauress pulled her calf as close as possible. Still, she let them draw alongside the wagon.

"Damaris, allow me to introduce my brother, King Edmund. Ed, this is Lady Damaris, formerly of the Iso Herd."

"K-king!?" Damaris asked. "Th-then you are…?"

Edmund swallowed back his laughter. It seemed his sister had once again 'forgotten' to include a certain title when introducing herself. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Damaris," he said, getting the poor cow's attention back on himself. "I have been informed of your plight and offer my condolences. Know that Narnia welcomes you and your calf, and you both will be Our guests at Cair Paravel until such time as you are able to find a home for yourself."

"I… I..." Tears welled up in her eyes. "Thank you so much, Your Majesty, thank you."

Edmund smiled then gestured to the newborn, "May I ask her name?"

"Elpis," she said. "It means Hope."

"It is a good name. May I?" He reached out a hand, and when she did not shy away he placed it on the sleeping child's forehead. "Elpis, Daughter of Damaris, may the Lion bless you, and keep you between His paws; may He shake His mane over you, and be gracious to you; may the Lion turn his face toward you, and give you peace, for all your days.**5** Welcome to the world, Little One."

* * *

"Damaris stayed at the Cair for almost two years," Edmund said, "long enough to discover she had a green thumb as good as any Wood Spirit. She moved to a cottage on the edge of town and opened her own flower shop on Promenade Street. Elpis grew up absolutely taken with Lucy, and determined to do anything for her, so no one was surprised when she joined the ranks of knights-in-training at four."

"Four!" Caspian interrupted.

Edmund laughed. "Narnians all age at different rates. For a Minotaur, four is roughly equivalent of a seven or eight year old Man. It's why Pil and Tar were considered mature enough to be Susan's guards at only two: that's the same as late teens for a Man."

The prince blushed. "Oh, I suppose I should have realized that."

"It's not something you would be prone to think about while in the middle of a war," Edmund said. "Anyway, Elpis was knighted into the Order of the Sisterhood by Lucy herself once she came of age – eight by the way – and was one of her most faithful champions."

Caspian sat for a moment, soaking in the story. "That really is incredible. I wish that more stories of the Four's reckless mercy were remembered and passed down."

"I recommend talking to either the Badgers or the Centaurs, both have long memories," Edmund said. "And if there's time after all this is over, I'm sure my siblings would be happy to sit down with a few of them and go over what has been remembered and what has been forgotten."

"I'd like that," Caspian said. "But we have some time now, so..."

Edmund laughed. "Ask away, Caspian."

* * *

**Ending Notes:**

Damaris means "cow, heifer"

Boukratis isn't technically a name, but comes from Bous meaning "cow, ox, bull" and Kratos meaning "power"

Dolion means "crafty, deceitful, treacherous"

Oleander means "an evergreen tree"

All the names are Greek in origin, which I thought fitting since the Legend of the Minotaur originated in Ancient Greece (granted it was about the Minoans on Crete).

**1.** I haven't fully committed to making an entry explaining the titles of Duke/Dutchess and Count/Countess, but this is my take on how/why Edmund is Duke of Lantern Waste and Count of the Western March. Let me know if you want me to expand it into a full story with the other three as well.

**2.** I, and it seems most people, believe that it is fitting for Lucy to learn healing and medicine due to her being gifted with the cordial. Though the process to become a Narnian healer is probably extremely long and difficult - since one has to account for hundreds of different species - and Lucy has her duties as a Queen on top of that, so it would likely take her close to a decade or more to become a fully trained healer even if she started right away after her coronation.

**3.** A browband is a strap of the bridle that goes across the horse's forehead.

**4.** If I could remember where I saw/read this I would give full credit to the author. Unfortunately, it's been a few years. Anyway, whichever author it was gave an adorable lingual quirk to the Narnians so that they say "Good my Cousin" instead of "My good Cousin". I decided that I loved it too much not to include, and expanded on it slightly.

**5.** If any of you have heard a pastor/preacher/evangelist/missionary give a traditional blessing to a congregation, then these words should sound familiar. It comes out of the Bible, Numbers 6:24-26. I just changed some of the wording to be more Narnian.


End file.
